Avenging Gallifrey I: After the War, Part One
by 11deleted11
Summary: Gallifrey is locked away in stasis, courtesy of the Doctor. Lord President Rassilon is on his deathbed, condition unstable, courtesy of the Master. The once proud race of Time Lords are alone, trying to rebuild what they can of their broken homeworld. Acting Lady President Liza forms a taskforce with one goal in mind: harness the skills of two infamous renegades ... save Gallifrey.
1. PART ONE, I - THE WAR ROOM

**I. THE WAR ROOM**

The planet Gallifrey.

The Citadel Capitol.

The War Chamber.

It had long been abandoned ever since the planet was locked in a moment of time, the culmination of a devastating and seemingly eternal Time War – an easy escape for the Gallifreyans to go about their business; after all they were masters of time, but beyond that... It was a lonely, lonely universe being the only planet in existence.

Which was why this meeting was taking place.

"Welcome", a stern, coldly attractive woman - somewhat resembling the last Lady President of Gallifrey, Romanadvoratrelundar, but evidently a different woman altogether - was sitting at the head of the table within the War Council. Assembled around the piece of furniture were a handful of other Time Lords, all individually hardened by the War and their lonely predicament, "I doubt I need to inform you as to whom I am, but for record's sake I am Inquisitor Liza, the acting Lady President of Gallifrey, and, as you know, you are gathered here for a special mission –"

In the centre of the table a holographic image faded into being; despite the image's blue tint, the rather nondescript image of a middle-aged, bald man in an expensive suit appeared – on first glance just a regular guy, but there was a glint in his eyes… he was evidently a lot more important than he appeared. The image changed, fading into the equally innocent visage of an elderly, weary-looking man, and again into a blonde, stubbly man in a hoodie. "These are incarnations of the Master, real name Koschei – known criminal of our Time Lord society. A liar, a killer, a thief... He was last seen 'borrowing' a damaged Battle TARDIS and stealing an old Matrix Data Slice from the Archives – although not to his better health. Regrettably, he managed to regenerate _and_ escape the lock placed upon us – but his genius is needed."

The image now changed, momentarily flickering from an old, mischievous-looking man in a long cloak, leaning on a cane, to a younger man with a shock of blonde curls in a lovely blue suit, and again to a different man in a tight-fitting brown suit, with short, spiky brown hair and a cheeky smirk on his face.

"As you all know, these faces are some of those of The Doctor. The man who trapped us in this state. He was our salvation, our hero… until he declined us our freedom – we were forced to deliver him a new set of regenerations, of incarnations, as only _he_ knows how to release the planet. While this means that he may one day decide of his own free will to return and save us, it's very unlikely that we'll obtain any records of his visage from now on, as he regenerates further. Time Lords can change their appearance through the usage of their regenerative properties … while we here may only change our appearances in dire straits, the Master or the Doctor may employ this as a tactic to stay hidden from us. Either one of them could be anybody you meet in the outside Universe. Stay vigilant."

The image faded to nothing as the Inquisitor leaned forward; "You each have unique abilities highly capable for the task in hand. It is your assignment to find a way to free our lock in the same manner, track down these two Time Lords and bring them back _alive_ for official proceedings." She leaned back now, clasping the tips of her fingertips together as she rested her head on top. "Questions?"

The Warlord listened, absent-mindedly cracking his knuckles. "What resources do we have to complete this task?"

The Time Lady once known as the Explorer, now Crusader – a woman solely dedicated to bringing order and safety to the universe one way or the other, listened to the briefing in silence, her hands together on the table. She nodded to the Warlord, then added: "I have another: Keeping in mind that the whole of Gallifrey has been unable to breach the lock and the two criminals are, well, outside, how are we supposed to reach them? As far as I am aware, we don't know how the Master did."

The Inquisitor looked curiously at the Warlord before turning her attention toward the Crusader. She pursed her lips before nodding slowly; " _We_ may not know precisely how the Master escaped this hell, but _I_ however know different. The outside Universe was accessed through the Untempered Schism - although we were ripped from the proper universe, the Schism still holds links; not enough to send a whole planet through, but perhaps one or two TARDISes. The reason we haven't made this public? Well, this tear in the fabric of reality truly is our last chance, and since our one and only other option has decidedly left us to rot, now is the time to do what we must. The Schism is likely to collapse after a single attempt."

She inclined her head back to the Warlord; "In regard to your resources: two Battle TARDISes have been secured for this purpose. On board is every weapon we had left - well, mostly every weapon. We do like to keep one or two things back, just in case..."

 _In case their eternal enemies in that wretched war, the Daleks, find a way_ _back to_ _Gallifrey in order to finish the job_ , she thought to herself as she reclined her head back, hands still entwined below her chin. "However many of you go on this mission," she indicated to the other silent compatriots around the table, "You will have to make peace with each other in order to work together. Set aside your differences. Your main goal," her voice faltered momentary, "Is to make sure that the Time Lord race continues. One way or another."

The Crusader leaned slightly forward, attentive, when the Inquisitor revealed she knew how the Master had escaped the lock, and it was possible to follow his tracks. The mission suddenly didn't seem so impossible anymore.

She decided to ignore the last part. _When_ it came to that, _if_ it did, she would set her mind on devising a tolerable way to prolong the species. For the time being, they had two criminals to track.

"What about vortex scanners?" she asked. "Both the Master and the Doctor regenerated since the last records of them. We may waste a lot of time searching for them if we can't find fresh tracks."

The Crusader presented a good question, but one with a misunderstanding of the best course of action in tracking the _current_ incarnation of both Time Lords they were after. "Although neither Time Lord has a TARDIS personal to themselves," the Inquisitor began, reclining now in her long and slightly pointless explanation, "They each, like all of us in this room, carry their own personal symbiotic nuclei - their personal link to the Time Vortex, to regeneration and - most importantly - to the Matrix. We may no longer know what their current faces look like, but we do know which incarnation each are on. The Doctor should be in the first incarnation of a secondary regeneration cycle, with the specific data match to the man long held in record since his initiation to the Gallifrey Academy. The Master, however..."

The holographic image projector flashed up an image of a being wrapped in dark clothes, it's face was... burnt. Damaged. Destroyed. "This was the thirteenth and last incarnation of the original Master. He claimed three different faces under circumstances but remained in the chronological regeneration number of thirteen," Liza informed them.

"Once resurrected from the bowels of the Doctor's stolen TARDIS, we implemented a new cycle of regenerations upon the Master so as to act as spy for us amongst the Daleks in the build-up to the Time War. Off course, he fled from the War and we lost track of him, but the Master who escaped earlier was in his third incarnation of his second regeneration cycle, meaning the one we are looking for is in his fourth incarnation of his second regeneration cycle - his symbiotic nuclei code will be encoded into both Battle TARDISes, set to his current incarnation so there is no... mix up in the timeline. The same has been done for the Doctor. It is presumed that the Doctor in his new face has met and knows the Master in his own current face, but only fate will tell."

She allowed this information to sink in a moment before decidedly voicing another fact they needed to know: "I will not be accompanying you on this mission - being the highest authority on Gallifrey since the High Council were... relinquished, I will be needed to keep things running as smoothly as possible; I will however be available for communication at any given time," at this point Liza reached into her pocket and pulled out several identical looking badge-like devices all holding the Seal of Rassilon, an ancient Gallifreyan symbol, "These will allow direct access to myself without protocol, and will help commune with each other should telepathic tendencies not able."

The Crusader listened to the explanations and scoffed as the Inquisitor told them the Master had fled the Time War. _Of course_ he did.

She took her communication device before looking up at the Inquisitor again. "I have another question: The Master and the Doctor are to be brought alive to face justice, but what of aliens who might get in the way? You gave us heavily armed Battle TARDISes so I assume you expect fierce opposition."

"The Doctor was foolishly interfering before the War. In the process, yes, he gained much loyalty from the idiots that chose to side with him. And the Master, as we know, is rather apt with hypnosis and manipulation. If they knew we were coming, either could amass an army with ease," said the Warlord, grunting out each syllable with quiet aggression.

"Indeed; the Doctor has thousands of allies – plenty of races whom have benefited from his use of luck and sheer determination; they won't be so happy to see him locked away for the remainder of his long, long life," Liza nodded at the Warlord.

"And the same issue, but perhaps slightly twisted in the case of the Master. As the Warlord has so… eloquently put it," now she was addressing the table at large, "The Master can gain a lot of cult following; species threatened or coerced into submission until they do his will. While as Time Lords we used to have a non-interference policy, in this case I would suggest to remove as much opposition as possible – by any means."

Of course she meant weaponry, but she also implied the use of time displacement – removing an entire species from existence just to stop their influence in battle. This was a tactic that at one point was ferociously opposed to, but during the course of the Time War was in fact implemented into the very Battle TARDISes the group were being deployed in – used for the exact same reason the Inquisitor had now silently insisted upon, in many a conflict against the Daleks.

The Daleks who could influence the universe in ways only the Time Lords could equal, who could threaten an army to fight for their cause just because they could. The Inquisitor shuddered at the thought … what if the Daleks had survived the end of the War? What if, in the outside Universe, they had been assembling an army, dominating the surviving worlds … what if–

"Sorry for the late entry!"

The Mechanic stumbled in, looking about nervously. A young woman in stained overalls, her hair messy and sweat dripping from her brow, still somewhat attractive despite the unkempt look about her. She halted for a moment, taking in her fellow operatives. "I was working, and … and in the middle of something. I haven't _missed_ anything, have I?"

"Not at all," murmured the Warlord, unimpressed with the new arrival. "Only the entire point of the meeting, the summary of the mission and every detail of how we are expected to achieve it."

"Well," fired back the Mechanic, "Thank you so much for wasting time having a go instead of taking the time to inform me."

"Oh, you're very welcome," the Warlord gave her a sarcastic smile, rolling his eyes at the girl. "Fine. If nobody else is going to do it – what do you know of the renegades the Doctor and the Master?"

"The Master? A crazy man, from what I've heard. And the Doctor saved our asses in the time war, I believe. Unless that's not the official way of doing things."

"He trapped us!" snapped the Crusader, "You stupid girl. This is not salvation, this is imprisonment!"

"And from what I have heard," said the Warlord, "The only imminent danger we were facing was him. The rest was... prepared for and would have been manageable. Our mission is to bring the both of them back to Gallifrey. Force them to free us and try them for their crimes."

Leaning back in her chair at the interruption, Liza kept her lips pursed as the Warlord filled in the Mechanic of what had so far been planned, the Inquisitor squinting her displeasure at the other Time Lady's high opinion of the man who has imprisoned them.

"As the Crusader has to aptly put it," Liza responded quietly, directing her full attention now to the latecomer, "The Doctor was the one who imprisoned us. Our fate would have been more simple had he enacted the Moment he stole from our very vaults, to lock our fates in the last day of the War but _instead_ we are trapped here, concealed in this prison _outside_ of space and time itself." She sighed to herself before producing yet another communications device and sliding it over to the Mechanic.

"I trust we all know what to do? It is the Doctor who will have to place us back into the universe – and knowing his fate if he did so, more specifically his trial, he wouldn't be so happy to release us like _that_!" She snapped her fingers, "So initiative and bravado are needed; get him to free Gallifrey by any means necessary. And let us not forget the Master – he needs to be brought back to trial himself, a proper trial with proper punishments. I feel his remaining regenerations will be forfeit at the very least."

"Trapped? I'm surprised someone didn't make this happen long ago, considering how little we tried to interfere before the war." The Mechanic took a seat, "Hasn't the Doctor been on trial before? Or is that just a rumour I heard the last time the High Council fell apart, before the War?" She grabbed the communication device, checking it over, nodding at the Inquisitor.

"Yes, it's not the first time the Doctor has been tried for his crimes," The Crusader answered the Mechanic's question. She turned to Liza, letting her elaborate. The Crusader's knowledge of these events was imprecise at best, but the Inquisitor was bound to have read the report of her predecessor.

The Warlord spoke, "For different crimes. Before the War, The Doctor was harmless, just bumbling about the Universe causing havoc in that stolen relic of his. A little bit different to a plethora of war crimes, isn't it?

"Oh, because the Time Lords ' _never_ ' endangered anyone in this war of ours. Especially not the High Council, with their harmless plans for universal genocide. Or the War Council, for innocently setting loose every doomsday weapon we had, most of them not even against the Daleks!" The Mechanic snapped back at the others. Their superior manner was really starting to piss her off.

The Warlord stood up, shooting an angered look at the Mechanic, "Something that I am sure will be taken to trial. However, all of those things were done with authority and proper permissions. The Doctor acted recklessly and without any permission or even so much as a casual request. And not to mention that, without us, the Daleks are sure to be outside this bubble, taking over the Universe! You know very well that interference goes against our highest laws, but we went to War because we _had_ to!"

The Mechanic didn't respond, staying quiet. She was now almost certain that she was the only one in the room with these views, although the silent, stony-faced blonde man seated next to the Lady President hadn't betrayed what his feelings were either way.

Inquisitor Liza listened with curious ears to the debate that slowly formed around the table between the Warlord and Mechanic, the latter of whom was obviously a Doctor Sympathiser – surprisingly there were a few Time Lords like this still on Gallifrey; many whom had associated with the last President Romana, whose relationship with the Doctor was widely known, accepted and later frowned upon. It was probably one of the reasons the High Council went against Lady Romana in favour for Rassilon.

"Tell me, Mechanic, why are you here precisely? Is this a trick of the High Council to even out opinion, or maybe you overheard this meeting was taking place and you wanted to… shake things up a bit?" monotonous though her tone constantly remained, the admirable smirk wasn't unseen on her lips.

The Mechanic turned towards the Inquisitor, wondering the reason for asking. "I was hoping you could tell me, since you seem to be in charge here. I was just told to show up and not tell anyone else this was going on." With the Inquisitor's second comment, though, she figured she was right – these people weren't exactly the most sympathetic of people to the Doctor. She looked around. "Although whoever told me that doesn't seem to be here..."

"It seems a practical joke of sorts has been played on you… dear." Liza responded on the Mechanic's second remark, forcing herself to sound at least friendly in such a situation – the others were remaining tight-lipped, seeing what the outcome of this intrusion would be before they moved forward. "However, I'm sure a person of your particular… craft could be vital to the mission, even if her outlook is flawed."

She indicated the holo-projector in the centre of the table, now displaying an image of two formless cylindrical objects with armoured attachments presenting themselves. "Two Battle TARDISes for your journey. You have mechanical prowess, I assume, judging from your chosen title? Never before have we piloted a TARDIS, no matter what make or model, through the Untempered Schism– just because the Master did doesn't mean he, or his stolen TARDIS, remained completely intact. You, my dear Mechanic, would be vital in keeping both machines stabilised during the journey, at the same time, so we don't lose number, weapon or…" she glanced beyond the hologram, to the other faces present, "skill."

The Mechanic sighed internally upon learning she wasn't supposed to be here. "It's possible, I suppose. I am a decent engineer, you could say..."

"Decent will have to do." Liza snapped. Her eyes still lingered on the Mechanic, but her mind wandered elsewhere. She thought of the previous Lord President, Rassilon the Reborn, Rassilon the _Resurrected_. Somewhere else in the Citadel, some private clinic, he lay, mortally injured, dying from injuries inflicted upon him by the Master on the final day of the War. Liza had silently pleaded for him to die, but if he had a backup plan, another body, then he would undoubtedly take charge of Gallifrey once again, and her plans for rebuilding would be lost. The man was a tyrant.

The Crusader spoke up, "Is there a list of known deserters?" she asked. "I assume those who survived the Daleks, who weren't on Gallifrey, aren't to be prosecuted, at least not for the time being… in that case, are some of them likely to provide some support against the Doctor and the Master? And if not, are we to treat them like criminals too — or perhaps to consider they forfeited their rights as Time Lords the moment they deserted?"

Liza had to think before answering this time, aware that she herself would be sending a message through to those Time Lords free of Gallifrey once the group before her had gone, but not wanting them to know that quite so quickly. "I am sure" she started slowly, considerately, "That there were plenty of Time Lords away from Gallifrey during the final onslaught; what they have done with their lives and where their allegiance lies thus far remains to be seen – judge them by their actions as you move forward, but remember deserters and betrayers will not be tolerated."

"Understood," the Crusader acknowledged coldly. Deserters had been either forcibly sent back to the front or executed during Rassilon's time in the war; if bringing other potential deserters back for trial wasn't part of their mission, as the Inquisitor seemed to imply, then there was only one fate worthy of them if they stood in the way.

"No more questions?" asked the Lady President, glancing at the other team members around the table. The blonde man next to Liza, the Mechanic still keeping an eye on him, seemed to look up at this… but still he did not speak.

Satisfied that their meeting was over, that the Time Lords knew their tasks at hand, the Inquisitor stood; "For the purpose of travel, the Battle TARDISes have been moved into the Schism chamber – once you get used to these, we shall put you through the Untempered Schism itself as planned, but that is where we shall need you, Mechanic…"

As the Lady President moved towards the chamber's exit, the other Time Lords followed suit – first the Warlord, then the Crusader, and then the blonde man. He caught Mechanic's eye, held her gaze just for a moment … then looked away, moving quietly out the door. The Mechanic sighed, considering her options.

Her allies in this mission were, as a matter of fact, complete and utter lunatics. Untrustworthy, loyal to a fatally flawed cause, and too passionate, too violent, too … mercurial.

But … the outside Universe. The Mechanic knew that she needed to escape, that she was not likely to last much longer without getting off this planet. It truly was a tough dilemma.

She had made her choice, though.

Sighing, the Mechanic followed the blonde man out of the War Chamber. She knew, deep down, that this was a decision she was extremely likely to regret.

* * *

 _This fic is somewhat based upon DWRP Forum's "The New Gallifreyan Avengers" thread. Substantial credit goes to Terrance Sigma, Lord Garnetto, AkibaSilver and The Daleks' Advocate for the creation of some of the characters featured in this story._


	2. PART ONE, II - THE UNTEMPERED SCHISM

**II. THE UNTEMPERED SCHISM**

Not even bothering to look back to see if the company was following, Liza moved swiftly down several corridors - most of which had long since seen their glory days – and steep staircases, moving deeper and deeper into the Citadel. _Were they underground?_ wondered the Mechanic, this particular part of Gallifrey's Capitol completely alien to her.

Soon, however, the procession entered a large room which all would recognise; its rocky floor, dark walls and general melancholy feel was what all had faced just once in their lives, when they were very small and unprepared for the raw expanse of all Space and Time itself...

A few Time Lords scurried around the large portal-like device which, back when Liza herself was young, had shone with unimaginable power and yet now barely glinted. Liza didn't even flinch as she looked to it, the Untempered Schism, that tear in the fabric of reality that was known to drive men mad … and felt nothing. What did that mean? Was she mad already?

Just next to the Schism sat two factory-setting Battle TARDISes – armed, dimensionally transcendental timeships, their Chameleon Circuits currently disguising them as basic, bland-looking metallic cylinders, leaving the ships ready to adapt their physical form to the environment that they landed in once they'd left Gallifrey.

Silently, the Inquisitor turned to watch the sad ensemble whom had followed her down into the chamber – so… _this_ was their last hope. May the Spirit of Rassilon have mercy on her race.

The Mechanic approached the TARDIS on the right, stepping over the threshold into the interior dimension, beginning to feel slightly nervous about the task at hand. The Warlord and the Crusader followed her inside, the blonde man taking up the rear.

"Good-o," the Warlord said, glancing to the Mechanic with an insincerely cheerful grin plastered on his face. "Time to see how good you are, then! My regular mechanic could probably do this if he were here so let's hope you are as good as he was, hm?"

Starting to pick apart the different sections of the ship's console, the Mechanic began to murmur to herself, "A Type 93 Mark II Battle TARDIS, fairly old at this point in time but still reliable, using a multi-phase aryonic engine and dynamorphic loop generator dematerialisation circuit, with a backup Verity N-type for the HADS in times of emergency." She looked up at the Warlord, making eye contact briefly. "That make me seem good enough yet? Or do you still want me gone?"

"You will seem good enough _once_ you have gotten us through the Schism," the Warlord said, "A theoretical knowledge is fair but it is crunch time now. I don't object to your presence … I just prefer a crew I can trust."

"We should be able to leave soon enough," said the Mechanic. "Once everybody's on board and I tie the two ships together well enough, it shouldn't be too hard. Better than flying through a … a firestorm or something, at least."

The Crusader examined the Battle TARDIS' interior with a critical eye … the ship was up to her standards, at least, but she couldn't help doubting its ability to make it through the Untempered Schism intact.

A group of Time Lords were gathered around some equipment just a little way away from the Schism, flicking switches and pressing buttons, their eyebrows furrowed with intense concentration.

"How goes it?" asked Liza, intentionally informal, so as to lower the technicians' guard.

"Skittish," responded the Head Technician sharply, a burly dark man in tattered official décor. She raised an inquisitorial eyebrow at the brief explanation. "Well," he sounded nervous now, "There's enough power to send the TARDISes through, yes, but all information points to that being _it_. If you wanted to send a message through after the TARDISes, you won't be able to."

"Then I shall have to send the message now," she murmured, "Inconvenient though it is."

"Uh … we cannot record and send, ma'am," another technician piped up, "It has to go live."

The Lady President-elect rolled her eyes. "I presumed so," she said curtly, raising the microphone to her lips. The skeleton crew of technicians ran to their positions, hurriedly adjusting dials in preparation. A young Time Lady gave Liza the thumbs-up: _go ahead._

Liza cleared her throat.

 _"This is Present-Elect Lizad'azailundar from the High Council of Gallifrey. Repeat: This is Present-Elect Lizad'azailundar from the High Council of Gallifrey. Contrary to what you may know or believe, Gallifrey lives! This is a live communication which, when your TARDIS picks it up, will be instantly recorded and stored. The Time Lords known as the Doctor and the Master are enemies to the Council, to the Planet, to your very selves – it is because of their actions both the Lord President Rassilon is dead and Gallifrey is locked out of time._

 _"We are sending a group of highly specialised agents through the Untempered Schism, as a last resort to apprehend both criminals and reopen the lock your home planet is captured within. Should you come across this group, make your allegiance known or run for your life – if you are against them, you are with the Doctor and the Master and thus enemies of Time. This will be my last and only contact until Gallifrey is freed. Good luck."_

A junior technician gave Liza a wide smile. "Very good message, Madame President. Very commanding."

"I know," she responded coolly.

Inside the Battle TARDIS, the Mechanic looked up at the Warlord. She could tell he was thinking the same thing. "Wasn't that transmission sent to _every single_ TARDIS outside the Lock? Including the Doctor and the Master's? If we've tipped them off with that message, how much worse is this mission going to be?" she asked, exasperated.

"Yes … both are resourceful. The best course by far would have been to take them by surprise, without giving them any sort of advantage. We are playing on their 'home field', after all," he murmured, his irritation at the Inquisitor's blunder showing.

In the corner of the ship's console room, the blonde man folded his arms, pursed his lips, and stayed silent.

The Crusader afforded a smile during the Inquisitor's inspiring speech. She expected most free Time Lords to be deserters and cowards, of course, but at least they knew where to stand now. Gallifrey would rise again, with or without them! She shook her head at the others, brushing the issue off. "You don't seem to realise that both renegades, cunning and devious as they are, are also likely too arrogant to take the threat seriously. I doubt this changes much."

"Is that everyone?" The Mechanic asked, ignoring The Crusader, sealing the doors and starting preparations for take-off. "Or are we expecting any more late additions?"

Liza strode into the small ship, looking around at the four Time Lords assembled, her eyes lingering for a moment on the blonde man. She put on a more authoritarian voice as she asked: "Well, are you going to head off or do you expect a day-long chat with your President-Elect?"

"Indeed. Can't let the pawns have all the fun," the Warlord said. He understood all this as a game, a game of chess, and he was determined to prove himself as the strongest piece. The most valuable. "Mechanic, are we ready?"

"Two minutes, approximately." The Mechanic answered, wiring two components together. "I just need to keep this link sustained, because otherwise we'll go one way and the other TARDIS will be flung the exact opposite, which would be a waste."

"Need a hand?" asked the Warlord, mockingly.

The Mechanic didn't look up, missing his mocking tone. "No… if I let you touch it I won't have any idea how you screwed up when I'd inevitably have to fix it later on. And I need to keep this straight in my head, what's linked to what, where each part leads, etcetera, so it's best if you don't. _Touch it_ , that is."

Liza swivelled around, exiting the TARDIS and approaching the small crew of technicians again. "The Mechanic girl is saying they'll be ready within a few hundred rels."

"If they're ready to move within the next, ooh, six hundred rels we can let them through, after that I'm not so sure," said the Head Technician, his brow creased with worry as he spoke to the Lady President.

"They will be," said Liza, biting her lip worriedly.

The Crusader tapped her fingers impatiently on the console while the Mechanic worked, and glanced at the readings on the screen at regular intervals.

"We should be good to go..." The Mechanic said, connecting one last conduit. She stood up, quickly glancing over the monitors. "This is probably going to take all of us to work together to leave Gallifrey, at least." She said, taking up one of the console's sides. "After that, one pilot should be able to manage for basic systems, if I've wired it up correctly. These Battle TARDISes do tend to have overly complex systems."

The Warlord took the console's second side, to the left of The Mechanic, closest to the doors – the main navigation centre. The Captain's controls.

This didn't go unnoticed for The Crusader, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing. If the Warlord wished to instate himself as Captain of their little crew, he could do so freely. She wouldn't be following any orders, regardless.

As for her, she chose the scanning and communications panel. First, they'd need to react to anything unexpected with the utmost swiftness to make it out of the Time Lock alive. Then, if they wanted to find the Doctor and the Master, they'd need to follow the renegades' ever-so faint trail. In both cases, she trusted herself over anyone else for the task.

The Mechanic was already at the Mechanics panel, and flicked a switch, closing the TARDISes doors and sealing them off from the Technicians and Lady President-Elect outside in the Schism Chamber.

She looked up at the blonde man, who'd silently gravitated to the Diagnostics section and was now quietly flicking through the information on his personal monitor.

"Everyone good to go?" asked The Mechanic.

"The sooner, the better," the Crusader replied curtly. "According to the readings, the Schism is weak and fluctuating but still within expected parameters." She glanced to the Warlord: "It's now or never."

Wherever he intended to fly them, they had to dematerialise _now_ if they were to make it out of the time lock alive.

The Warlord got to work without a word, and the twin timeships' engines initialised, the other TARDIS a slave to their own.

Outside, in the Schism Chamber, the Inquisitor stood back as the TARDISes hummed into life. She watched as one faded from view - the slave ship - reappearing inside its 'master' timeship, to be stored there until required. "May Rassilon guide you to your targets…" The Time Lady remarked grimly as the remaining Battle TARDIS began to build up power, a loud grating noise filling the room as the ship … no, not dematerialised, raised into the air, and began fading in and out of existence.

How _did_ one gain entry to the Untempered Schism? Had they made an error in calculation? Was their last chance at salvation gone for good?

 _No._

Liza caught a momentary flash of light as the Battle TARDIS burst into life, hurtling past her, past the technicians, and through the gap in the fabric of reality, the ship's hold on its own position in reality faltering. It didn't look stable. It didn't look safe. But that didn't matter…

The ship had gone.

And, with that, the Untempered Schism died. True, it spluttered for a momentary second, sparked once more with a demented passion for life but then… nothing. Liza could see the room behind for once and her hearts suddenly fell. Truthfully, their last hope was now gone.

They were alone in their own dead, little bubble universe.

 _Would they succeed?_ She had had her unquestionable doubts since the moment they all gathered in the War Room, that was for sure. A sorry looking bunch if ever she saw one. Incapable, definitely, but …

" _No,_ " she murmured softly to herself, making her decision. " _They must succeed. Gallifrey_ will _live."_

* * *

 _This fic is somewhat based upon DWRP Forum's "The New Gallifreyan Avengers" thread. Substantial credit goes to Terrance Sigma, Lord Garnetto, AkibaSilver and The Daleks' Advocate for the creation of some of the characters featured in this story._


	3. PART ONE, III - THE WANDERER

**III. THE WANDERER**

The TARDIS shook violently, console sparking and lights blinking, the Time Lords assembled around the console holding on for dear life. From deep within the vaults of the labyrinthine ship, the Cloister Bell began sounding - a slow, ominous, echoing that filled the Mechanic's heart with dread. Various alerts were being transmitted to the monitor attached to her side of the console, informing her of various system failures, the loss of their primary power source, and the severance of the ship's link to the Eye of Harmony back on Gallifrey.

"We shall need to land near some sort of temporal anomaly, to gain power," she tried to explain to the others amongst the chaos. "Like a rift, or tear in the fabric of reality … the vortex's energy can seep into the ship, and it should be energised fully within a day or so… that is, if we can survive the landing…"

The TARDIS continued to hurtle through the vortex, practically about to fall apart at such high speed.

The Crusader clung to the console to keep her balance, never taking her eyes off the numerous dials and gauges and screens. Despite the strain on the timeship's structure and on her nerves, she afforded herself a ferocious grin of triumph. They'd made it! They were out. _They were out._

Free at last.

The thrill of freedom didn't last long before the Crusader realised they were losing power at an alarming pace. She sprang into action as soon as the Mechanic asked for a refuelling destination; as much as she disliked and distrusted the other woman, she at least respected her technical skills. "Earth scan in progress... Rift energy detected. Northern hemisphere, Western Europe, Great Britain, Wales. Cardiff!" she announced as she refined the readings. She gave the Warlord the exact co-ordinates.

"On it," the Warlord said, tapping in the co-ordinates. "Should be an easy enough landing. Just be warned, _er_ , this rift has seen a lot of activity from both locals and aliens… it may not be stable."

"Well, good. At least we've found somewhere to refuel," The Mechanic said, another system shutting down on her.

The Crusader nodded to herself, formulating a plan. Even if neither the Doctor nor the Master were currently present on Earth, she had no intention of waiting passively for one of them to show up. There were bound to be clues of their past interference, and she had every intention of finding them and then either follow them wherever else they were at the moment, or more likely, get ready for their next coming to Earth.

The two Battle TARDISes crashed unceremoniously into the area of real space containing Cardiff, 2015 C.E., with a loud wheezing, groaning noise that would have attracted stares anywhere else in the universe, if only for the abysmal landing. The passing by humans, however, noticed nothing. The Mechanic pulled herself up from the floor of the console room, looking around at her three comrades.

"Everyone alright?" she asked.

The blonde man, one Lord Cardinal Androgar of Gallifreyan High Command, had sat though the Inquisitor's meeting in complete silence, wondering both why he was there and how Liza had claimed the 'President Elect' title before anyone else. Now here he was, picking himself up off the floor after a rather bumpy journey through the Untempered Schism and doing his best to dust himself down as he stood up, the Mechanic asking about his and the others' well-being.

"As good as one can be after a crash-landing," he murmured softly, giving the Mechanic a look of mild disdain.

He wasn't used to this sort of discomfort, having spent most of the War safely enclosed in the Citadel, preferring to control things behind the scenes than go into the fray himself.

Without saying another word, not even glancing back at the others, Androgar strode over to the ship's doors and stepped outside, followed quickly by The Crusader. The two of them stood outside the ship for a moment, visually scanning the area.

And, then, he spotted it. So did The Crusader. They exchanged bemused glances - how could they have found their target so quickly? Just a few steps away from where their own Battle TARDIS had landed stood the familiar Police Box shape he so despised – unmistakeably, the Doctor's TARDIS.

"Well, well, well, Doctor, you are foolish…" he muttered with a smirk, his pace quickening as he approached the ship. The Crusader began to reach for a weapon, then paused. _Perhaps not._ It was preferable that, in such a public area, they keep this confrontation civil.

Hungry to lay claim to the blue box, Androgar didn't pay attention to anyone nearby as he raised a hand to touch the ship, only to be pushed back a few paces - stumbling backwards over his blood-red High Gallifreyan robes – by some sort of invisible force-field around the ship.

"Oh, very clever, Doctor," he said darkly, giving The Crusader a look. She stayed silent, but they'd already quickly developed a mutual respect. Both of them were equally dedicated to their goal, and they'd each realised that quickly. Androgar had a feeling that the two would get along.

Androgar's eye was caught by a gang of teenagers who had stopped in their tracks to watch him stumble about. The adolescents were giggling at him, and their disrespect filled Androgar with quiet fury.

"Can I help you?" he remarked coldly, giving the boys a piercing stare. Almost immediately, their smiles faded, and the humans backed off quickly. Androgar smirked to himself.

Pulling a concealed sonic probe from his sleeve, Androgar scanned the forcefield, the device's readings making him rather irritated. It seemed, for the moment, that the forcefield was impenetrable.

"How you can take such a dilapidated model of timeship and fit it out with defences such as this is frankly beyond me, Doctor…" Androgar muttered to himself, giving the shield a light thump of annoyance. He glanced at the Crusader, "He has to be around here somewhere, yes? Do you have any equipment?"

She shook her head, distracted by something else… two figures, walking side-by-side down the street towards them.

Androgar scoffed. Surely it wouldn't … it _couldn't_ … be this easy finding the Doctor and the Master, strolling down some inconspicuous Earth street as if they had the afternoon off! He chuckled to himself as he pushed his probe back up his sleeve. This was sure to be an interesting encounter indeed.

* * *

The Doctor was on his own.

This wasn't unusual. Of all his long years, the Doctor had spent many of them by himself, but recently there hadn't been much time for solitude. He supposed he probably worked better on his own, but still … it was nice to have company some of the time.

The Sisterhood of Karn were a very tricky race to deal with, a cult entirely dedicated to their mystic cause, and his dealings with them in the past had been … varied, to say the least. They could be a very protective people. But there was somebody he had to see. Somebody he hadn't spoken to in a very long time.

An old friend, here on Karn.

The Doctor stood in the doorway of his TARDIS, the light emanating from the console room illuminating just a few feet around the ship… but beyond that, he only saw darkness.

"It's now or never, Doctor…" he murmured, his own Earth-Scot accent still taking a bit to get used to. It had been multiple devastating wars and almost a millennia since he was last Scottish, after all.

The Doctor stepped forward, the rocky terrain of the cavern floor crunching underfoot.

"Hello?" he called out. " _Mystique_? _Elysian?_ "

The Doctor fished in his pocket for his sonic screwdriver, finally locating the device and setting it to _'lighting mode'_ , but before he could activate it-

"There's no need for that," snapped a sharp voice from the darkness.

As if by magic, the wall-mounted torches surrounding him suddenly lit with roaring flames, and before him, just a few feet away, stood a young woman. Long, dark hair, slightly older-looking than when he'd last seen her, but unmistakeably ….

"Mystiqued'aziaphoenixia…?"

"In the flesh. Or something like that," There was just a hint of a smile on this Mystique woman's lips as she cocked her head to the side. "I've waited a long time for you, Doctor. My Sisters here on Karn refused to tell me _anything_."

"I understand…" the Doctor dared to step forward. Mystique shrank back a little, wary of him.

"Doctor," she asked, "Do you know of the Pandora War? Did you know that _your_ friend, that poor girl the Elysian, died fighting?"

The Doctor now raised both his hands, trying to show a surrender, a sympathetic gesture. "Yes… Yes, I did, I… it was I that brought the Elysian's body to Karn…"

"Doctor, I've known you longer than most. You were always a favourite student of mine, regardless of your marks. So I'll speak freely," Mystique's eyes bore into the Doctor for a moment. "You couldn't let a friend down and so you brought her empty husk of a body here to Karn. They knew the girl's mind was beyond saving, but that didn't matter, because in the eyes of that High Priestess Ohila her body was the perfect receptacle for _my consciousness_."

The Doctor nodded slowly, "I … _I know_ …"

"Do you know what it's like to be fused with another Time Lord? Two distinct symbiotic nuclei sharing _one mind_ and _one body_?"

"I'm sorry, Mystique… I didn't know that they'd—"

"That they'd _what_? That the Sisterhood would do what they did? Doctor, you're acquainted with the ways of Karn. You know my Sisters better than I. You knew perfectly well."

The Doctor was silent, his heart heavy with guilt. He looked up at the woman, waiting for her to continue, but Mystique had finished her piece.

"Well?" she asked, "Why _are_ you here?"

"I … I need your help…"

"What a surprise!" the Mystique exclaimed.

"– because you're the only Time Lord I know that escaped Gallifrey before the end of the War. Because you studied the superweapon we call 'the Moment'. Because you're a High Gallifreyan of the House Heartshaven, and therefore descended from the creator of Stasis technology."

"What links these three, besides me?" her curiosity was piqued.

"Because I locked Gallifrey in Stasis, aided by the Moment," the Doctor murmured, "And I have no clue where the planet … where _our_ planet … has gone."

"You were always a fool, Doctor," she muttered.

" _But will you help me?"_

"Well," she took a step closer to the Doctor, looking him up and down, "Anything to get away from Karn. And it has been such a while since I was around _proper_ Time Lords … the Sisters hardly count."

The Doctor nodded silently, moving back a few steps into his ship. Mystique followed him into the TARDIS, the both of them slowly circling the console as they spoke. "I suppose it's straight to business, then," said Mystique, "Tell me… how did you end the War?"

The TARDIS' doors slammed shut as the craft began to dematerialise from Karn's surface. "It was … a complex affair," the Doctor said, not sure how to explain, "Rules were broken. Multiple incarnations of the same Time Lord were present."

"You never were one to follow the rules," Mystique sighed, indicating for him to continue, "I suppose that Time Lord was you, then? How many incarnations? Come to think of it, which body are you on now?"

"All of them," the Doctor said, "All of my first cycle, plus me. I'm … on my fourteenth body, so that's…"

"First of a second cycle? _They gave you a second cycle?_ "

"If I die, nobody can rescue Gallifrey from the Time Lock," said the Doctor, "At least, that's what they think…"

"I see. So, what was it that happened on the Last Day?"

"I was … faced with a dilemma. Destroy Gallifrey, destroy the Daleks and Time Lords alike, and end the War for good… or allow them to keep fighting and tear the time-space continuum apart. I … I was prepared to do the former when… if I'm being honest, I'm not sure. A calculation was made, I thought of a safe way to isolate Gallifrey, and we needed thirteen or so TARDISes for that... none of the others remembered anything."

"So you trapped Gallifrey in a bubble universe? Separate from the rest of us?"

"Something like that…"

A red light began flashing on the TARDIS' console, interrupting the two. "Hold on…" said the Doctor, "That's … that's a message. Someone's trying to contact the ship, um, let me just…"

He flicked a few switches and, suddenly, a female voice was blaring through speakers. It was, even if this was unknown to both Mystique and the Doctor, the voice of Inquisitor Liza.

" _This is Present-Elect Lizad'azailundar from the High Council of Gallifrey…"_ _began the message, the measured tones of Gallifrey's current Lady President filling the console room._

 _And then, suddenly, the transmission cut out just as quickly as it had begun, and another voice echoed from the speakers. A quiet voice – male this time._ _"_ _Have I reached the Doctor?"_

 _Neither the Doctor nor Mystique did anything in response._

 _"_ _I repeat, have I reached the TARDIS of the Time Lord known as the Doctor? Please respond."_

Slowly, cautiously, the Doctor approached the console, flicking a few switches. "Hello…" began the Time Lord, warily. "This is the Doctor."

 _"Excellent,"_ said the voice coming through the comms. _"This is quite the coincidence, I'm glad I bumped into you, Doctor. You can refer to me as the Wanderer, by the way. Currently, I'm contacting you from a TARDIS of my own. My ship is in quite close proximity to yours in the vortex, and well … I've received a transmission from Gallifrey's acting Lady President…"_

"Yes," said the Doctor, interrupting, "I was just about to listen to that transmission when you, well, _hijacked_ the communications, as it were."

 _"_ _I see…_ " the voice paused for a moment. _"Well, if you haven't already, then don't bother listening to the message, I can … explain it … well enough, Doctor. Are you alone on your ship?"_

The Doctor looked over at Mystique, the woman beginning to speak tentatively, "No, I'm afraid he isn't. My name is … Mystique _. Just another Time Lord … or, Lady, rather_."

 _"_ _Can either of you see the ship's scanner? I'll attempt to give you a look at my ship,"_ said the Wanderer, just as what looked like a Raxacoricofallapatorian star-cruiser came into view on the scanner.

 _"_ _Oh, and don't worry about the exterior,_ " Wanderer chuckled, " _Chameleon circuit's on the blink and I do enjoy the design, so I've just allowed the ship to maintain that disguise."_

"What, exactly," asked the Doctor, "Do you want?"

 _"_ _As I said, the Lady President has sent out a transmission. I wish to discuss it with you, Doctor. It's really very fortunate that I stumbled upon you here when I did. This is extremely important."_

"And why should he trust you, exactly?" asked Mystique.

For a moment, the Wanderer didn't answer. And, then, on the scanner, they saw the other TARDIS' doors slide open, revealing the stark-white interior of the Wanderer's ship.

 _"You are welcome aboard if you want."_

For a moment, neither the Doctor nor Mystique could think of a response. And then, the Doctor gave Mystique a look. She nodded, reassuringly, beginning to edge the Doctor's ship closer to that of the Wanderer.

 _"_ _Please try not to initiate a Time Ram or anything as you shift your ship closer, that would be most unfortunate. I'm glad you've decided to listen to me, however. This is of the utmost importance…"_ he stopped speaking for a moment, the sound of fingers clattering over buttons filtering through the microphone.

 _"_ _There we go…"_

Mystique pressed a button on the console, the TARDIS' doors swinging open, the Wanderer's vessel cruising through the swirling time-storms of the vortex and closer to the Doctor's ship.

"Doctor," said Mystique, slowly, choosing her words carefully, "I think you should board the Wanderer's ship … _alone_. I'll stay back here and make sure we don't … drift off to the beginning of the Universe … or something."

There was a pause. The two TARDISes linked, a young man visible in the other ship, leaning against the console. Clad in the uniform of a member of Gallifrey's Chancellery Guard, a gun at his hip, the Wanderer gave Mystique a slight smile, stepping out of view before the Doctor could see him.

"Off you go, Doctor," Mystique gestured towards the open doors.

"I think maybe that's –" the Doctor started, but the woman interrupted him, making shooing noises as she ushered the Time Lord out of the police box and into the Wanderer's ship.

 _"_ _Doctor,_ " the Wanderer inclined his head towards the Doctor in greeting, but before he could continue, the doors of the latter Time Lord's TARDIS slammed shut behind him.

"Sorry, Doctor," came Mystique's voice through the comms system.

"Mystique!" the Doctor exclaimed, surprise and concern etched into his voice, "What are you doing? _Mystique!_ " But his cries fell on deaf ears, and, through the open doors of the Wanderer's TARDIS, he watched his own ship spin away through the vortex.

Turning to the Wanderer, bristling with anger, barely even noticing the other Time Lord's outfit, the Doctor looked the man up and down. "What are you waiting for? Follow that ship!" he spat, furious.

But the Wanderer did not move.

"I figure… it's better to stay away from Earth for the moment," the Wanderer replied, "You're being hunted, Doctor, and that's exactly where they'll expect you to go."

The younger Time Lord moved back over to the console, closing his ship's doors as the Doctor stared at him in disbelief. "Earth? How do you know she's going to Earth?"

"I don't…" said the Wanderer, slowly, "But I do know that that's where you were going to suggest searching for Mystique first, wasn't it?"

The Doctor blinked rapidly at the Wanderer, almost too stunned by the recent events for words.

"You said I'm being hunted. _What did you mean?_ "

* * *

 _This fic is somewhat based upon DWRP Forum's "The New Gallifreyan Avengers" thread. Some credit goes to Terrance Sigma, Lord Garnetto, AkibaSilver, The Daleks' Advocate and Sparrow9612 for the creation of some of the characters featured in this story._


	4. PART ONE, IV - A REUNION

**IV. A REUNION**

 _I can't believe it, after all of this time..._

Taking a minute to gather his thoughts together, the Time Lord Desipassan took several deep breaths to calm the furious pounding of his hearts, unable to drag his eyes away from the woman standing before him. His surroundings felt as if they slowly faded away to nothing.

He'd received the transmission from the Lady President, bemused by what she'd said, but not paying her much heed. _Really_ , he'd scoffed to himself, _Who would dare go after the Doctor?_

And then he'd landed on Earth, Cardiff, just a quick refuelling trip, and he'd seen that blue police box, that shape that all Time Lords associated with the Doctor, and, curious as ever, he'd approached the ship.

Ever since the end of the War, Desi had been looking for that man. That mighty warrior, the worst nightmare of all those who stood against the Time Lords in those days of conflict.

Slowly, he'd picked up the courage to knock, just once, ever-so-lightly, on the ship's door.

But, surprisingly enough, it wasn't the Doctor who exited that blue box.

"Hello, Mystique," he greeted one of his oldest and dearest instructors from the days of yore at the Prydonian Academy on Gallifrey. "I have to say, I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

There was a brief pause, as the two High Gallifreyans looked each other up and down.

"Nor I, you," she responded calmly. "A lot has happened since I left, I understand. How did you… _survive_?" she needn't ask further, he knew she referred to the Time War.

 _Ah… of course she would want to know how he survived the Time War, how could she not?_

Desipassan paused, wondering what, exactly, he should tell her.

"Not everyone who went to War went there to die," he finally answered, his voice barely above a whisper. It was vague and he had avoided truly answering the question, but at the same time it wasn't a lie. Not all Time Lords who were conscripted died in the war, though crippling psychological side-effects plagued those who had survived long after it was over.

"Well, if I was an idiot then I would say that this was a very serendipitous turn of events... but I'm not especially inclined to believe in fate or coincidences or any of that bollocks, so there must be a reason you're here, in the TARDIS of the very same man that I've been looking for."

 _Not everyone who went to war went there to die,_ mused Mystique. How right he was. Of course she'd never fought in that War – _how could she when her consciousness was locked up in some deep vault on Karn?_ – but she knew how it was to be deep in conflict.

Mystique had taught as many students as there were stars in the sky, but she had a good memory for them all and particularly remembered Desipassan – barely scraping through his exams in a way that only proved how lazy he was, so she wasn't at all surprised if he didn't even fight in the War himself. He certainly wasn't the type to become a soldier.

"Tell me," she said, "Why are you looking for the Doctor?"

She intentionally did not mention her own reasons for being there. Such an influx of TARDIS energy readings, coupled with the existence of a rift in space-time and the faint traces of the Doctor's own presence… these occurrences could not be unrelated.

Desi hesitated, wondering how best to answer the query. Should he tell her the truth? Would she even know what was going on with Gallifrey and The Doctor's current predicament? He had contemplated making pleasant small talk and 'catching up', but that didn't seem to be on Mystique's agenda. Straight down to business, she was … what was the Time Lady up to?

"Oh, you know…" he drawled lazily, giving the air of one who had not a care in the Universe… entirely unconvincingly, however. "Just looking to catch up with people from the past... Found myself feeling a bit nostalgic the other day, you know how that goes."

He had a feeling that she knew what was going on however, having arrived in the good Doctor himself's TARDIS. Was she here to try and deflect the efforts of those tasked with bringing him back to Gallifrey? It seemed like a viable option, and if she was prepared to play a game of verbal chicken, then so was he. She was always having to firmly put him in his place back at the Academy, but he was no novice cowering under the steely gaze of a teacher, not anymore. _Maybe. Possibly. He'd give it a go anyway._

"So, why are _you_ here… _Educator Mystique_? If you don't mind me asking, of course," he asked, giving a somewhat charming rogue-ish grin.

"And what if I _do_ mind?" she responded, her eyes darting around, analysing every face she could … where were these Time Lords she had detected? And what was the reason for the sudden influx?

"I think…" she said, "I'd prefer a casual jaunt around the city." Mystique offered Desipassan her arm. "Shall we?"

"Uh, hang on a minute… What about, well, you know…?" Desi said, indicating to The Doctor's still open TARDIS behind them. "Unless you have some kind of force field or glamour around it…"

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You'd think I would have learned by now not to question you, _Mystique_ …" he chuckled, and they set off side-by-side, arm-in-arm. A small device in Desi's hand beeped.

"Does that thing detect… uh… Gallifreyan life signs, then?" asked Mystique airily, gesturing to the device. Desi nodded, giving her a look.

"Why, yes, Myst, it does indeed. A little creation of my own. As I'm sure you remember, I never was very good at sitting still and listening to what was being taught. Preferred tinkering about, doing my own thing, you know…" he paused briefly, letting his mind wander to those bygone days, "Which, incidentally, I apologize for - I know I was a wee gobshite back then, but you saw me through all of that and helped me scrape a pass, so, well, thank you for that, really."

While Desi meant every word he said, he did wonder if perhaps reminiscing and being told what a great teacher she was would open her up to sharing. It was worth a try.

"A lot like the Doctor I was," he stated oh-so-casually. "Passing with half marks, but a pass nonetheless…" he chuckled. "As it happens, since you turned up here in his TARDIS, I don't suppose you know where the old bugger is, do you?"

While Myst appreciated the compliment and minute reminiscence towards her past career, she couldn't help but notice the Time Lord's sudden derailing of the conversation right back around to the singular topic of _'Where is the Doctor?'_ and this concerned her even further.

Not only was he after the Doctor but he had some sort of a ramshackle device capable of detecting the presence of other Timelords. There had to be a link.

"The Doctor barely scraped his exams, unlike you," she retorted. "At least you passed with a good enough grade not to be frowned upon by the rest of our society. And, yes, that does seem to be the Doctor's TARDIS, doesn't it? Curious that, wouldn't you say?"

She let the question hang as Desi raised an eyebrow. The two Time Lords strode past a shop, Mystique catching a look at her own face in the reflection of the window. While she had consciously chosen one of the Elysian's older faces for this current incarnation, she'd never quite seen it in action. The sensation was … strange. Mystique's own reflection made her uncomfortable.

"I borrowed it," she stated, quite suddenly. "The Doctor's TARDIS, I mean. He was … busy with other things, so I just took it. To take a breather. Get away from Karn for a while."

 _Good lord, was it beyond her capabilities to concoct at least a half decent lie?_ Desi asked himself as Mystique stumbled through an explanation. She'd had to put up with him as a student all of those years ago and he'd been the master of lies and excuses, surely she had learned something from him?

"If you'll pardon me for talking like this Myst, that's a load of bollocks and you know it is." He snorted derisively. "I don't know much about the man, but if I do know one thing about The Doctor, it's that he's _never_ without his TARDIS, no matter where he is or what he's doing. He'd die for that old blue box, and as much as he trusts you, I highly doubt he'd lend it out all willy-nilly and let you take it for a test drive without him."

Desi suddenly realised that he was still holding the detector device in his hand, hastily tucking it back into his pocket and running a hand through his unruly blonde hair.

"Look, as much as I love the idea of dossing about, exchanging pleasantries and catching up on what we've missed for the last few hundred years, let's just be honest with each other, yeah? You have studiously avoided answering my question of why you're here and trying to feed me embarrassingly flimsy excuses. We're both obviously here for more than just the scenery so I propose we just be honest and try to work _together_ instead of against each other, hm?"

Myst was taken aback by Desi's sudden change in attitude. Perhaps he had changed since his Academy days after all. " _Well, well, well_ ," she muttered, loudly, "Look who's grown himself a backbone! Alright then, you want the truth? Firstly, I stole the Doctor's TARDIS right from under his nose to track an influx of TARDIS-related energy to this very spot. Secondly, I have spent too long locked up on Karn _not_ to perform the first act. Thirdly, thanks to the second I'm now technically two people and trying to see clearly on a constant basis is much harder than it could ever look. Is that enough for you, _Desipassan_?" she spat the final words at him.

She breathed in sharply. "And what about you, then? Why are _you_ here, and why are you after the Doctor? Have I missed a memo?"

"And for heaven's sake do something about that infernal device!" she added, the thing now beeping very loudly. Mystique was unaware that the device was, in fact, detecting quite a number of other Time Lords besides herself and Desipassan.

"You _stole_ his TARDIS? Right out from under him? Oh-ho, Myst, I've seriously underestimated you! There are mighty forces and endless armies in this universe who have tried and failed to take his TARDIS away from him..." he laughed, the temporary slight giddiness caused by her revelation ebbing away when he registered what it was she said about where she'd been all of this time.

"I... I had no idea where you'd been. So, the discussion about what we've both been up to all of this time will be very one-sided then. I'm sorry," he muttered, having no real idea what to say or how to tackle the subject. He knew about Karn, of course he did, but only the very basics. To know that she had been locked up there made him slightly angry... _And now she was two people? How did that work?_

"Anyway … yes, I am looking for The Doctor," he began, taking a deep breath before continuing. "And, well, there sort of _was_ a memo that you missed… a call to arms, if you will, from Gallifrey's current President-Elect Lizad'azailundar, encouraging any and all Time Lords left out there in the big bad universe to hunt down and bring in The Doctor... and that arrogant prat The Master," he snorted. "For crimes committed against the people of Gallifrey, they've been declared enemies to the High Council, and because Gallifrey is locked away out of time, well, it's down to the rest of us to do their dirty work for them... as per bloody usual…" he sneered, his lip curling back in disgust.

"I pulled a lot of shit back in the day, enough for me not to be welcomed back to Gallifrey with open arms... more likely cuffs and a prison cell, or banishment. So, while I really don't want to bring The Doctor in, doing so may be my only chance for, well, redemption…" he sighed, the detector going off again, louder than before.

Furiously digging around inside his pocket, he eventually produced the device and studied it carefully for a moment, the loud repetitive beeping not annoying him as much as it was his old teacher.

"There's not much I can to stop this Myst... it seems to have picked up the presence of another Time Lord!" he murmured, excitedly, instantly striding off in another direction, following the signal.

He didn't even glance back to make sure Myst was following him as he knew she would be. Desi couldn't miss the chance that this could be the Doctor or the Master, even if it meant having a verbal … or even physical … sparring match in the middle of Cardiff City Center. He would listen to The Doctor's side of the story of course, there's no way he'd just pounce on them an and drag the Time Lords kicking and screaming off to Gallifrey. He wanted... no, _needed_ to know the full story as he'd been away for so long.

"Another Time Lord? Fantastic!" was all Myst said as she followed after Desipassan.

Desi only vaguely heard his old teacher's declaration of joy at the prospect of finding another Time Lord, so continued moving at his swift, long legged pace as he followed the detector as the signal increased in strength. The people milling around him stared as he rushed past, likely all wondering what the hell he was doing, one or two people even finding it in themselves to jeer and make passing comments, to which Desi simply responded with the one finger salute humans seemed so fond of. Glancing back to make sure Mystique was keeping up with him, he turned his attention back to where they were being led, and was surprised to find that they were doubling back on the route they'd taken from the library.

Standing across the road from it, Desi stopped until Myst had caught up with him.

"Looks like this is where all the action's at, _Educator_!" he chuckled, flashing her a brief but charming smile. "You know, I knew there was somebody else here apart from just us two, there had to be! The detector's never gone that crazy in the presence of only _one_ other Gallifreyan, after all-"

She didn't pay attention now to what Desi was saying – if he were saying anything at all – as her eyes fell upon the blue box and the blonde man examining it. That was impossible; it was invisible to the human eyes (or at least their perception of it) so how could anyone be…? Her eyes moved to the device Desi was holding and the conclusion seemed to scream at her: He had heard the memo, he was looking for the Doctor and then… what?

"I…" she started in reply, but she needn't have spoken as she felt another presence, much closer behind them and spun around – her eyes widening then narrowing as she looked directly at a Time Lady. With the blonde man back by the TARDIS, Desi next to her, the Doctor somewhere out in space and time it was impossible to tell who this Time Lady was.

Androgar turned away from the TARDIS, giving Desi a look of mild amusement. "So…" he murmured, "Which one are _you_?"

* * *

 _This fic is somewhat based upon DWRP Forum's "The New Gallifreyan Avengers" thread. Some credit goes to Terrance Sigma and Wandering Browncoat_ _for the creation of some of the characters featured in this story._


	5. PART ONE, V - HUNTED

**V. HUNTED**

The Mechanic snuck up behind the Crusader, having followed the other Time Lord's signal on a device made of scraps and various components. The Warlord had elected to stay behind, looking after their Battle TARDISes.

As she saw the two of her colleagues standing there, she realised she had probably just stumbled on something important to their mission. "Are you two going to tell me why a wooden box is in any way pertinent?" She thought she remembered something like it from the briefing, but it could just be a common Earth object.

The Crusader turned to see the Mechanic looking obliviously at the Doctor's TARDIS. She shook her head in contempt before responding, in an almost mocking tone, "Are Type-40 TARDISes so below you that you don't recognise them when you see them? Or are you too sympathetic to the Doctor's cause that you're practically human?"

"Well," murmured Androgar, looking Desi up and down, "I hardly think the Time Lord's TARDIS is important when we have the man himself in our grasp. I'd recognise that stature anywhere… that long coat… _Doctor_."

There was a silence. Mystique raised a bemused eyebrow.

Desipassan slowly looked back up at the sneering blonde man and his comrades, standing expressionless for a moment before, unable to contain himself, a short, sharp bark of laughter escaped his lips.

Still laughing, Desi looked from the man down to Myst, lightly elbowing her and indicating to the two arrivals standing mystified before them.

"They think…" he took a gasp of air through his guffaws, as the Time Lady beside him allowed herself an indulgent smile. "They think I'm … oh, dear… they think I'm _him_!"

Mystique nodded, "Yes, I gathered."

"Oh … ah … right, okay, sorry about that," he said, still feeling somewhat breathless. "Thank you, though, for giving me the first good laugh I've had in a long time, I appreciate it. _Okay!_ I'm not entirely sure who you are, but in case you hadn't guessed already from my reaction, I most certainly am _not_ the man you are searching for. So, if it's all the same to you, my friend and I are going to continue going about our business, and you … three … are going to be smart and bugger off in the opposite direction _, alright_?"

Androgar levelled his gaze at the Time Lord. "Well, then, if you're not the Doctor, why are you in possession of his ship?"

"As a matter of fact," the Crusader rolled her eyes at Androgar. "It appears that he indeed is _not_ the Doctor. I remember this particular Time Lord from the Academy, his name is Des … Desa … Deso … something like that. I don't recognise the female, however…"

"My name is Mystiqued'aziaphoenixia," said Mystique, her eyes flashing, "You may have heard of me."

Androgar bit his lip. "M-Mystique? I doubt if you recall me, Educator, but…"

"Androgar, isn't it? Oh, I would recognise you with any face. Self-centered prat as you were, I wish I'd had the chance to commend you on your final mark. An impressive score, certainly."

The Time Lord looked down at his feet. "Er … thank you, Educator. You still haven't explained how you came into possession of the Doctor's TARDIS?"

"I stole it," she explained, casually, "And, what's more, I'll tell you where the Doctor was _last_ when you tell _me_ the specifics of your … mission … whatever it may be."

"Oh, well, that's easy enough," chimed in Desi, "They're obviously after the Doctor. The message your Lady President sent out mentioned the Master, too."

"What message?" Mystique whirled around to look at Desi. "You never mentioned any message."

"I was going to…"

Androgar rolled his eyes. "Enough. You're both under arrest, for allying yourself with a known enemy of the Gallifreyan people. Mechanic, Crusader, could you please escort these two back to our ship and lock them up? Thank you."

Desipassan's eyes widened. "Allying ourselves? No, no, you don't understand. I heard your message, and I decided ' _well, may as well take a trip back to Gallifrey'_ and what better way to return than by fulfilling your Lady President's wishes? I was going to capture the Doctor for you!"

Mystique pursed her lips as the Crusader grabbed her from behind, rather rougher than the way the Mechanic secured Desi. "Were you, now?"

Desi's face fell.

"Back to the ship, please, ladies," instructed Androgar, "I believe we have a lead on the location of the Doctor."

 **-OOO-**

 _"This is Present-Elect Lizad'azailundar from the High Council of Gallifrey. Repeat: This is Present-Elect Lizad'azailundar from the High Council of Gallifrey. Contrary to what you may know or believe, Gallifrey lives! This is a live communication which, when your TARDIS picks it up, will be instantly recorded and stored. The Time Lords known as the Doctor and the Master are enemies to the Council, to the Planet, to your very selves – it is because of their actions both the Lord President Rassilon is dead and Gallifrey is locked out of time._

 _"We are sending a group of highly specialised agents through the Untempered Schism, as a last resort to apprehend both criminals and reopen the lock your home planet is captured within. Should you come across this group, make your allegiance known or run for your life – if you are against them, you are with the Doctor and the Master and thus enemies of Time. This will be my last and only contact until Gallifrey is freed. Good luck."_

 _The message finished, and the Wanderer looked up at the Doctor. "Well?" asked the younger Time Lord. "How's that? Understand me now? They're after you, Doctor. Gallifrey is hunting you."_

The Doctor should have been angry. He should have been scared. Instead… well, he wasn't necessarily unhappy. In fact, he was ecstatic. Who cared what the message contained, it was what the message _represented_ that meant everything to him – all his hard work, and it had worked!

They were safe. Gallifrey had not fallen. "They're alive," he muttered to himself, trying to contain his excitement. "They're _alive_."

Suddenly he realised exactly what the content of the message meant. If the Master was on their hit list too, could he … well, _she_ , last time they'd had an encounter … still be alive?

For the Doctor, following his TARDIS was now the last thing on his mind. The Wanderer had been right, they needn't go to Earth. At least not yet. "Is your ship in good condition?" he asked the Wanderer. "We need to find someone."

"She's a Type-98 and fit as a fiddle," Wanderer replied, patting the console affectionately. "I named her _Romana_ , after—"

"—the ex-Lady President, I assume," the Doctor waved the other Time Lord away. "Yes, I gathered. Very quaint."

The Wanderer clucked his tongue. "I'll leave it up to you where we go, Doctor. You've got the most experience. I'd likely just end up leading us into the middle of a Cyberfleet or something."

The Doctor gave him a curt nod. "We need to find the Mistress – I mean, the Master. Regeneration. Can either of you do that?" he glanced between the boy and the man, waiting expectantly.

"See, normally finding the Master … or _Mistress_ or whatever," the Wanderer replied, "Would require a DNA sample, running along a timeline and arduously scouring all of Time and Space for him-slash-her."

"But," the Doctor held up a hand, "We don't have to. You have telepathic controls, I assume?"

Wanderer sat down in a chair near the console, tapping something into a monitor. He looked back up at the Doctor. "I do, yes, in the tertiary console room."

"Tertiary console room?" asked the Doctor, already striding purposefully away from the console, "Down which corridor…?"

"Oh!" The Wanderer exclaimed, hurrying after the Doctor, "The … uh … second on the left… hold on, just follow me…"

The two Time Lords strolled through the cramped, metallic corridors of the Wanderer's rather bare TARDIS, the Wanderer peeking down each room they passed to check they hadn't passed their destination yet. Staring into a large chamber on the left, he perked up. "In here, Doctor, is the tertiary console room, I believe…"

As they entered the gloomy space, the walls' in-built fluorescent lighting flickered on, giving the whole console room a greenish tinge. The Wanderer ran his fingers over the console, dust accumulating on his fingertips. "See, Doctor, here … telepathic controls."

The Doctor's eyes lit up appreciatively as the Wanderer initialised the console room's systems, entering a few commands into the machine. The latter gave the Doctor a brief look. "You should be good to go, Doctor."

Sticking his fingers into the ship's telepathic circuits and directing a quick side-glance at the Wanderer again, the Doctor took a steadying breath. He pictured his old school-friend, the young man he'd known at the Academy, and the man's black-clad and pointy-bearded incarnation after all those years apart, and that crumbling body he'd been trapped in and called it an existence, the stolen Trakenite form, the human body he'd used and discarded, the smug bald man, the Warrior, that form he'd used as the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, and, finally… yes, in his mind the Doctor saw her …

 _The Mistress,_ in all her Mary Poppins-esque glory.

He removed his hands as quickly as if he had been given an electric shock, taking a step back as he looked over at the Wanderer now, breathing one word:

"Felspoon."

Wanderer put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "Are you alright, Doctor? What did you see? What is ' _Felspoon'_?"

The Doctor brushed him off, brusquely. "I'm fine… Felspoon is one of the moons of the planet Fel. As in the Swaying Mountains of Felspoon? No?"

The Wanderer gave the Doctor a blank look. The Doctor sighed.

"Never mind. Point is, the Master, or Mistress, is there. For whatever reason, I don't know, maybe she's on holiday. She'll probably be expecting us too. Always ahead of the game."

"Hold on, you want to arrest the Master?" asked the Wanderer.

 _"_ _Arrest?"_ the Doctor gave the Wanderer a look. "No, not arrest her. We need to make sure she's safe, make sure _they_ don't get to her."

" _Make sure she's safe…_ " repeated the Wanderer, already entering co-ordinates into the console. "Of course. Why else would we go looking for the Master?"

The ship, still disguised as a rather unassuming Raxacoricofallapatorian cruiser, drifted through the vortex, now en route to the moon of Fel. The Doctor raised his eyebrows at the ship's pilot, "So, Mr. Wanderer, what's your story?"

"Oh, I'm no one special," the Wanderer replied nonchalantly, "I was born, same way everyone else was, attended the Academy, given my regenerations and then took my place with the Chancellery Guard." The Wanderer gestured to the robes he was wearing. "Something of a tradition in my House."

"Chancellery Guard?" the Doctor responded with a disarming smile. "Well, that's a noble Gallifreyan job, a great, erm, _reference_ for anyone".

The Wanderer remained silent, focusing on the navigational systems. The Doctor pursed his lips and cleared his throat. "So, what do you have here in terms of tracking devices?"

"I thought you already knew where the Mistress was," said the Wanderer.

"I do," said the Doctor, "Technically, at least. Best to have a backup plan if she goes on the run."

The Wanderer scrolled through his ship's manifest. "Okay, there are two DNA trackers. Only problem with those is that they were meant for criminals who had already been captured and escaped, so the trackers require a DNA sample from the _perp_. Pretty sure I don't have any trace of The Master in my TARDIS, but—"

They were interrupted by a sudden noise, music blaring from the console's speakers, filling the chamber.

"What kind of awful noise is that?" Wanderer's hand lashed out, hurriedly turning down the speaker volume until the tune was much less audible. "Any idea where it's coming from, Doctor?"

"A trace of the Master's TARDIS," the Doctor mused. "It was a… a hit on Earth, during the late 20th century. She took a shine to it."

 _Oh Mickey, you're so fine. You're so fine, you blow my mind._

 _Hey Mickey!_

 _Hey_ … Missy _…_

"She's leading us right to her," the Doctor muttered. "Perhaps she knows she's being hunted? Is there some sort of a signal buried in that noise?"

Wanderer started searching for any traceable signals. "Oh, we are definitely walking right into a trap."

The Doctor grinned at him, "Of course … let's spring the trap, then, eh?"

The Wanderer's TARDIS landed on the surface of Felspoon, right where the song's signal led them. The Doctor didn't waste any time in moving swiftly to the door, not even checking if outside was clear or not as he hurried out the open doors…

And stopped.

* * *

 _This fic is somewhat based upon DWRP Forum's "The New Gallifreyan Avengers" thread. Some credit goes to Terrance Sigma, AkibaSilver, The Daleks' Advocate, Lord Garnetto, Wandering Browncoat and Sparrow9612 for the creation of some of the characters featured in this story._


	6. PART ONE, VI - THE MISTRESS

**VI. THE MISTRESS**

The grass was swaying in the breeze, tickling the Doctor's feet as he and the Mistress stared each other down for a moment. The handsome woman, clad in lavish purple, looked him up and down. There was an undeniably devious smile twinkling in her eyes.

Indicating behind his back for the Wanderer to stay in the TARDIS for the moment, the Doctor took a step forward, cautious in the company of the Master.

"So … to what do I owe this pleasure, dear Doctor?" Missy asked, coyly, "Are you here to … ooh, I don't know … discuss the manhunt our own race has ordered against us?"

"You know about that?" the Doctor asked, slightly disappointed that he wouldn't be able to break the news to her.

"Of course I do!" the Time Lady laughed, holding up a small radio transceiver. "I don't have a TARDIS with me, but I must have left it somewhere… it's still picking up messages on this little device. You should be used to me being a step ahead of you, love."

The Doctor's brow furrowed, ignoring her little jab. "Do you expect any other Time Lords to find us?"

"Someone already found you, though, didn't he?" Missy looked over at the Wanderer, watching them through the open doors of his TARDIS. She called out to him rather loudly: "Coo-ee, Mister Time Lord – come out and play! Let's get cosy, shall we?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes, unaware of the Wanderer exiting the TARDIS and slowly drawing his staser-pistol.

"We meet at last, Gallifrey's most infamous child," the Wanderer said, aiming the weapon over the Doctor's shoulder at the Master's chest.

The Mistress let off a squeal of laughter, almost snorting as she repeated the Wanderer's words: "Infamous child? Oh, those were the days! I like this one…" she said, absent-mindedly to the Doctor, "Where did you pick him up from?"

The Doctor turned and looked at the Wanderer, having seen the weapon out of the corner of his eye. "Oh…" he muttered, viewing the other Time Lord with nothing more than disappointment.

"I am a member of Gallifrey's Chancellery Guard, as I told you. According to the words of my Lady President, I have been assigned to locate and apprehend the Time Lords known as The Master and The Doctor. You are to stand trial for your war crimes and your abandonment of Gallifrey. Do you have anything to say?" the Wanderer gave the Doctor a glance.

"It's alright…" Missy muttered quickly, regardless of the weapon being aimed at her as she waved the Doctor off with one hand. "You really thought capturing me would be this easy?"

She leapt aggressively at the Wanderer, knocking him to the ground and pulling the weapon from his grasp. "Missy!" the Doctor whipped around, watching the Mistress make her way to the door of the Wanderer's ship before-

Wanderer reacted immediately, vaulting back to his feet, pulling a device from his belt and throwing it at the Mistress. The device expanded into a pair of cuffs, locking around the Time Lady's ankles and stopping all forward momentum, toppling her to the ground halfway over the threshold of Wanderer's TARDIS. The staser fell from her hands, landing half-buried in the grass.

"Wait, wait, wait!" the Doctor jumped up, pushing himself between Missy and the Wanderer with his arms held wide. "I didn't bring you here to capture her. In fact, it never even crossed my mind that you'd want to… but what are you going to do now? You weren't one of those Gallifrey sent out, you just happened upon this situation, just received that message in your ship - you have no idea what's to happen next!"

"Doctor…" Missy's voice came from behind him, he shooed her just as quickly, lowering his arms at the same time.

The Wanderer paused a moment before murmuring, "Doctor, I am one of those sent out. I was told to find you, under the assumption that you would lead me straight to The Master. Now you have."

Suddenly, the Mistress grabbed the Doctor's wrist from her position on the floor, slapping a Vortex Manipulator onto it, and he vanished in a flash of blue light. The Wanderer's scowl deepened.

"Right," Missy stated, slapping her hands together, standing up and balancing awkwardly on her bound legs as she smiled at the Wanderer. "Take me to your leader, I suppose."

"Where did you send him?" Wanderer demanded, "Tell me now, or I will shoot you in both your hearts right now, I swear on Rassilon."

He grabbed the captive Time Lady, dragging her into his ship. The doors slammed closed behind the two as he flung the Mistress unceremoniously onto a nearby seat. Missy couldn't help but chortle at the Wanderer.

"My, my, you are aggressive," she toyed. "But you don't think things through. I won't be telling you where I sent my dear friend because you need me. Without myself as your bounty, all gift-wrapped and ready to hand over to the High Council in exchange for some meagre reward, you'd be quite buggered. So no threats. They don't work."

The Wanderer ignored her, moving around the console in the dark, green-ish gloom of the tertiary console chamber, setting the systems up to record a message. He leant forward, making sure the microphone was active and ready to record, clearing his throat.

"This is The Wanderer, putting out a call to any active TARDISes. I have captured The Master, and am en route to The Shadow Proclamation. Considering the substantial threat she poses, I request any available Time Lords to act as escorts and/or security. The Master cannot be allowed to escape justice again. Before escorting my prisoner to the Shadow Proclamation, I will rendezvous with any other active agents of Gallifrey at these coordinates."

He tapped in a few numbers, attaching them to the voice message, and stopped recording. The Mistress started to slow-clap him, a smirk on her face. "Oh, well done, poppet. Well done. By the way, I think you, erm, left your gun outside, if you wanted to-"

The Wanderer whirled around, smacking the Time Lady in the face with the back of his hand. She stopped speaking for a moment, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth as he stared down at her.

"Shut up," commanded the Wanderer, and, for the moment at least, the Master obliged him.

-000-

The Warlord was waiting for Androgar and the others when they returned to the ship, leaning against the side of the box and shooting aggressive stares at human passers-by. "We've been sent a transmission," he told Androgar as they approached. "Time Lord, I assume a renegade, calling himself the Wanderer. He says he's got the Master for us."

"The Wanderer, you say? Never heard of him. But if he has found the Master…" Androgar gazed around the still heavily-damaged console room of the ship. "Did you not do any repair work while I was gone?"

The Warlord furrowed his brow, "Without the help of little Miss Mechanic and I, this vessel would be a complete mess."

"I'm sure." Androgar said. "So… this Wanderer character. Did he want to meet with us?"

The Warlord nodded quietly, bringing up a holographic display of a small, sand-coloured world. "A rendezvous point, to discuss terms, before he escorts … well, apparently, her … to The Shadow Proclamation."

"Saraanis?" Oh, what a vile wasteland," Androgar complained under his breath. "Why, of all places, choose there?"

"Vile wasteland? Is that your opinion of everywhere that isn't the Capitol?" asked the Mechanic as she bundled Desi into the ship, followed by The Crusader and Mystique. The Warlord raised an eyebrow at the two newcomers.

"Prisoners, Lord Androgar?" the older man questioned. "Who are they?"

"An ex-Academy educator and some renegade," said Androgar, disdainfully. "Nobody important, but they're traitors to Gallifrey and the Lady President did order us to apprehend traitors, so—"

"He took some initiative," interjected Mystique, drolly.

The Mechanic closed the ship's doors, securing Desi and Mystique in the corner of the console room. "Saraanis, then? Do we trust this … Wanderer … person?"

Warlord nodded. "Seemed genuine to me," he said, fairly gruffly.

Androgar pursed his lips. "However, I wonder if he'll have any caveats about just handing the prisoner over. We all know how stubborn and contrary some of these renegades can be."

"Anyway, if he does, then he'll be severely disappointed with our forms of …' cooperation'."

The Battle TARDIS and its uninhabited slave vessel dematerialised, shifting back into the vortex, en route to the desert planet Saraanis.

"Now," said Androgar. "Is anybody going to accompany me, or will I have to brave this deal myself?"

* * *

 _This fic is somewhat based upon DWRP Forum's "The New Gallifreyan Avengers" thread. Some credit goes to Terrance Sigma, AkibaSilver, The Daleks' Advocate, Lord Garnetto, Wandering Browncoat and Sparrow9612 for the creation of some of the characters featured in this story._


	7. PART ONE, VII - MEETING ON SARAANIS

**VII. MEETING ON SARAANIS**

The Doctor landed with a very hard _thump_ , a cold, metallic floor pressed up against his cheek. He groaned in pain, his head swimming, trying in vain to collect his thoughts. "What were you thinking, Missy?"

" _Ooh_ , I don't know," came a familiar voice from the other side of the room he'd found himself in. "I can't control everything that my … _duplicate_ … does."

The Doctor hauled himself to his feet and stared around the chamber he'd found himself in, his confusion fading slightly. Blood-red walls, a looming console in the middle of the chamber, large wrought-iron pillars connecting the ceiling to the ground. The Mistress was leaning against the console, tapping her fingers against it absent-mindedly.

Missy walked across to the Doctor, offering him her hand as she cocked her head at him. "Impressed?"

"Confused," the Doctor responded as she led him back to the bench she had been waiting on. "Where did you find a TARDIS?"

"I stole it. It's a Type 90-beta," indicating the advanced-looking controls on the console. "I haven't quite got a grasp of how to use it yet, but I've not died in a huge, firey explosion yet so it's a start, hm?"

"Right" the Doctor muttered, this not his concern as he added, "Why did you…?"

"Why did I create a duplicate? Simple. I lack that little thing you seem to have in abundance: Trust. I couldn't trust you to come and meet me alone, without some trigger-happy friends, so I made a perfect duplicate. Sontaran technology, if you must know, the _bastards_. Found a group still living in the Early War, convinced them I could help them join the conflict… stole their machines and killed the lot. Probably helped a lot of people out, actually, retroactively, but anyway—"

"You do realise nobody on Gallifrey's going to be fooled by your… duplicate … the moment they put it through mandatory DNA testing?"

"Yeah, I didn't think that far ahead," Missy mused, waving him away dismissively.

"The Wanderer won't be too impressed," the Doctor remarked.

"The Wanderer? Very pretentious name, that. What's he going to do with my double?" The Mistress was playing with her nails now, barely even paying attention to the conversation she was having.

"Probably get in contact with the others who are after us. Not sure where they'll end up meeting, but if we just … hmm … can your ship track other timeships in the vortex?"

"I believe so…" murmured Missy, returning to the ship's console and fiddling about with some controls.

"Locate anything?"

"Hold on…" she held up a hand. "Ah, there we go. There's a ship passing by us, on the way to…"

"Well?"

"No, it's not them."

"Where are they going, Missy?"

"Saraanis. As if there's going to be any Time Lords meeting on _that_ deserted wasteland... they're much too used to luxury to abide that sort of environment, aren't they? Closest to Saraanis you'll find a Time Lord is Metradrox, and that's only because of the 'political history', so…"

"Missy, that's a Battle TARDIS! It's them!"

"Oh, fine. Bit boring, though. Are we going after them, then?"

"No," said the Doctor, quickly forming a plan. "No, we'll wait. See where they go off to next. Then we follow them – no, hang on—"

The Doctor was interrupted when the Wanderer's message suddenly blared through Missy's ship's speakers, his expression clearing a bit when The Shadow Proclamation was mentioned.

"And now we know their destination after this Saraanis rendezvous. We want to get ahead of the game, don't we?" The Doctor grinned to himself, a slight twinkle in his eyes.

The floor of the console room ceased its humming abruptly. Missy looked over at the Doctor – they had landed. "You first," he grunted, gesturing towards the doors of the ship.

"Fine," she murmured, pulling the doors open and exiting the ship.

The second she emerged from the craft, no less than fifty Judoon soldiers had their blasters aimed directly at her.

"There is a bounty on your head, Doctor," the familiar voice of the Shadow Architect called out over Missy's shoulder into the darkened interior of the ship, the Judoon parting to allow the Architect closer proximity to the two Gallifreyans. She raised an eyebrow at the Doctor as he slowly exited the ship behind the Mistress, putting his hands up.

"If you're seeking asylum, you'll not find it here. However," the Architect murmured. "I don't wish to be unfair. You can lower your hands, Doctor."

Smiling slightly, the Doctor did as she instructed.

Glancing back to Missy's TARDIS, the Doctor found himself impressed – the Time Lady had disguised her ship as a London Police Box, mimicking his own craft's faulty chameleon circuit. The Time Lady was a quick thinker, that much could be said in her favour.

After all, he didn't know how early – or, trusting sod's law, late! – they were for the other Gallifreyans' arrival. The Wanderer's revelation of his true colours and loyalty to the High Council had pained him, and who knew how the others were likely to behave.

"Why does something tell me we're about to be bombarded by Time Lords?" the Shadow Architect asked the Doctor, rather flustered, the Doctor not paying total attention to her as she added: "They're back, you know."

"Oh I know," the Doctor told her. "They've sent out a handful of them to force me to do the impossible, then most likely put me back on trial–-"

"You misunderstand me Doctor," the woman stated more severely. "Gallifrey is back, but not quite accessible yet."

"You wouldn't be forgetting little old me now?"

The Mistress strode over to the Shadow Architect, ignoring the confused Judoon as she held up her hand for the other woman to shake. "Harriette Saxon," she gave the Shadow Architect a smile. "The latest associate of the, um, _Doc_ here. Call me … Harrie."

The Shadow Architect raised an eyebrow at 'Harrie' but shook her hand firmly nonetheless. "You were saying?" asked the Mistress, oddly politely.

"Yes…" the Architect nodded slowly. "Gallifrey. You brought it back, Doctor, or will bring it back some time in the future … but that's hardly the point. It's out there and only the Sisterhood of Karn can give you its location. They went there, you see. The only ones who know where Gallifrey is now. The world is … lost in the dark dimension. They want you so they can bring themselves back into the light."

An alarm began to sound. Wailing, intruding, and very irritating. The Shadow Architect frowned, and checked a small device in her hand as she received a message.

"Ah, we have more Time Lords," the Shadow Architect confirmed. "In sector Delta-Mu. You two stay put until I come back." She motioned for a few Judoon soldiers to stay and guard the pair and strode out of the room, followed by her escort of large alien guards.

"What the hell is this 'Harrie' nonsense?" the Doctor hissed at Missy, hiding the faint amusement in his voice.

"It's called 'incognito', Doctor," the Master smirked back at him. "You really should try it sometime."

 **-000-**

"Chancellery Guard?" Androgar asked the man rather brusquely, the Mechanic standing uncomfortably at his side. A hot sun beat down on them as they stood before the fairly unremarkable-looking Wanderer.

The Wanderer nodded slowly, wary of the two. Mechanic flashed him a quick smile, gesturing over Wanderer's shoulder at his TARDIS. "Nice wheels."

" _Nice wheels?_ " repeated Androgar, a look of disgust on his face. "Where does one even pick up dialect like that? Now," he said, directing his attention back to the Wanderer, "Are you with us without question, or are you against us? Do you expect some sort of… _payment_ … for release of the Master into our custody?"

"I was given the mission to track down The Master," Wanderer explained. "I expect no payment or reward, though it would be nice. Make no mistake, Lord Androgar, we are on the same side."

"Yes, a reward may be nice, but I highly doubt you're going to get one," The Mechanic shot back at him. "We _are_ talking about the High Council of Gallifrey here."

Androgar's mouth twitched, the faintest semblance of a smile appearing on his thin, pale lips. It seemed the Mechanic was finally getting a grip on their situation. On her own role in events. This pleased Androgar slightly more than he would have expected.

"Well…" asked Androgar, eyeing the Wanderer intently. "Where is the Time Lord? In your ship? Are you intending to keep us standing in the desert all day?"

"She's in the ship, yes, but…"

"But?"

The Wanderer's brow furrowed. "My intention was to hand over the prisoner at the Shadow Proclamation… not here."

"What for?"

Before the Wanderer could respond, the Mechanic spoke up. "Protection," she said. "Right? Security, in case something goes wrong with the Master?"

The Wanderer nodded mutely, hurriedly turning away and heading back to his own ship. Androgar and the Mechanic watched on in silence as the Wanderer's TARDIS dematerialised before the two remaining Time Lords.

" _Did he say …_ _she_ _?"_ Androgar asked, "The Master regenerated into a woman? Really? I… and why couldn't he have told us all this at the Shadow Proclamation? Why meet here?" Frankly, the Lord Cardinal seemed quite flummoxed at the whole ordeal.

"Speechless, Androgar?" asked the Mechanic cheekily. "That rather is a first."

Androgar gave her a hard glare. "Back to the ship," he grunted at her, dismissively – as if she was nothing more than his chauffeur. "I have a feeling we're going to need to be punctual to this little meeting at the Proclamation."

"And how are you going to explain to a squadron of battle-ready rhinoceroses why a gang of battle-ready Time Lords have suddenly materialised on their turf?"

"Of course I'll deal with the dunderheads at the Proclamation easily enough," he reassured the Mechanic as they strode back to the waiting Battle TARDIS, plus slave ship. "Those animal creatures _and_ whoever the Shadow Architect is now. By Rassilon, that really is an awful title…"

As Androgar and Mechanic re-entered the ship, they were greeted by the rather odd sight of the Crusader and Warlord bickering like young children, their prisoners watching on, bemused.

"—and we kill him … or her... No trial! Simply not needed—" hissed the Crusader, oblivious to the return of the other members of their crew.

"The Doctor doesn't have the Master's intellect! Or his concentration! We can't rely on a violent and unruly renegade—" shouted the Warlord back.

"—There! You've just described the fucking Master!—"

"—Well at least Koschei isn't a damn fool—"

"Fool the Doctor may be, and I have no respect whatsoever for the man, but at least he isn't a murderer!"

"He fought for Gallifrey, Crusader," the Warlord's voice lowered. "Of course he's a murderer."

Androgar cleared his throat. "And what's this? Dissent in the ranks?"

The Warlord pulled himself together instantly at the arrival of the tall blonde man, biting his lip as he attempted to reassure Androgar that it was all, "Just a small argument, Lord Cardinal. Nothing to, uh, worry about."

"I cannot abide those who can't work as a team," Androgar continued, ignoring the Warlord's feeble attempt at a cover-up. "You're both out. You'll take these two … criminals…"

"Oh, fuck off, we are not criminals!" exclaimed Desipassan, indignantly. Mystique shushed him quietly, her warmth towards him returning despite the revelation of his planned betrayal.

"As I said," Androgar pushed forth with his announcement persistently, raising his voice slightly, "You will wait with these two criminals at the Shadow Proclamation until a Celestial Intervention Agency operative is sent to relieve you of your duty. Evidently the neither of you are emotionally stable enough to continue in this environment, especially when the mission means so much to Gallifrey's future."

The Crusader glowered at him. "Lord Cardinal!" she began, outraged, but—

"Close your mouth, Crusader, or you'll find yourself in the same boat as Educator Mystique here and her plucky young student," Androgar commanded. "This is non-negotiable. You are both dismissed."

The Warlord nodded solemnly, exhaling loudly, as if deflated like a balloon. Crusader shot him a nasty look. _He had cost her a place in the annals of Gallifrey's history!_

"Take us to the Proclamation, Mechanic," instructed Androgar. "It is high time that the professionals here continued with their mission, I think."

"Yes, sir," said the Mechanic, gritting her teeth.

 **-000-**

The space station Alpaca Eighty-Six, dedicated entirely to leisure, pleasure and luxury. There was a lovely little restaurant there, regarded by many as being of the highest quality, with quick service and amazing food – and all the delicacies were served to patrons on little flying trains. Bernice Summerfield was particularly fond of this restaurant, as a matter of fact.

It's why she'd chosen it as a meeting place.

"My name is Red, Professor Summerfield," said the bald man. He was imposing, certainly, but Benny felt oddly calm and comfortable in his presence. That was probably dangerous.

"Oh, call me Benny," she said, smiling charismatically at the man called Red. "Everybody does."

"As you wish … _Benny_ ," there was a slight hint of amusement in the man's voice. "So…"

Benny looked around, expectantly. "So…"

"I hear that the Doctor has a bounty on his head," said Red, leaning over the table. "Where can I find him?"

Benny sighed.

Everyone was always concerned about the Doctor these days.

* * *

 _This fic is somewhat based upon DWRP Forum's "The New Gallifreyan Avengers" thread. Some credit goes to Terrance Sigma, AkibaSilver, The Daleks' Advocate, Lord Garnetto, Wandering Browncoat, Sparrow9612 and Doctor Who Immortals for the creation of some of the characters featured in this story._


	8. PART ONE, VIII - THE SHADOW PROCLAMATION

**VIII. THE SHADOW PROCLAMATION**

"Sector… Delta-Mu…" murmured Androgar, accurately pinpointing their current position in the space station - with help from the holo-map projected against a large hangar wall behind the six Time Lords and their pair of ships. The Lord Cardinal turned to the Crusader and the Warlord, giving them a sardonic smile. "End of the line for you two, I'm afraid."

With a sudden _whoosh_ , the hangar doors slid open, a veritable squadron of heavily-armed Judoon soldiers marching in and raising their blasters at the group. Mechanic gave Androgar a morbidly smug look. "Rhinoceroses. Armed to the teeth. Battle ready. Didn't I say so?"

"You Time Lords are all the same," said the Shadow Architect, moving through the Judoon to look Androgar up and down, unimpressed. "Superiority complexes to match Rassilon himself. Waltzing in here with your TARDISes and your 'titles', as if you have anything to do with the way things operate anymore."

"With Gallifrey out for the count, I'm sure the Proclamation have relished in being the… authority … in the Universe," the Crusader shot back at the Shadow Architect. "To have us come along and regain our positions of power shall be … _very_ … disorienting. Like a parent taking away a child's favourite toy."

Androgar gave the Crusader a pointed look. "I apologise for my associate's lack of diplomacy," he murmured. "Before I ask about anything else, does the Proclamation have holding cells?"

The Shadow Architect's small, beady eyes darted around, examining each of the Time Lords before her. Two of them were in handcuffs, the young man and the older woman, and their guards were … ah … the large, quiet man and the stern patriot with the sharp tongue. Did they hope to lock their prisoners away in the Proclamation's facilities?

"The Proclamation is not here to detain any of your political prisoners. If you want those two imprisoned, do so on Gallifrey," she said.

Androgar wrinkled his brow. "They shan't be … _detained_ … here. Just kept under lock-and-key until a CIA operative—"

"Celestial Intervention Agency? Here? I will not have it," snapped the Architect, staying firm under Androgar's darkening gaze.

"-until a CIA operative arrives to collect them and return them to the homeworld for a trial and sentence," Androgar continued, ignoring her. "You'll do as you're instructed, Architect, or we'll find a method of arresting you too. Oh, I know you aren't Gallifreyan, but a bit of temporal engineering and suddenly your father can be a Time Lord and you'll be under our jurisdiction by galactic law."

"It isn't the Time War anymore, Lord, er…"

"Lord Cardinal Androgar."

"The conflict is over, Cardinal Androgar. These methods … practically Gallifrey's tools of trade during the Last Great Time War … they have been outlawed by every major authority in … well… the known civilised Universe. You have no leverage."

"Gallifrey's High Council has power over every republic, every senate, every kingdom. They all owe some allegiance to the Time Lord race, and we have the ultimate power. I did try to be diplomatic, you see, but the law must be laid down sooner or later, Shadow Architect. Have some of your Judoon escort my associates and their prisoners to the holding cells, thank you," Androgar gave her a smile, but there was no sincerity to it.

Before the Architect's fury could get the better of her, there was a large gust of wind and a timeship materialised before them, taking the form of a Raxacoricofallapatorian cruiser.

The Wanderer's ship.

"I'll escort your associates myself," said the Shadow Architect quietly, beckoning the Crusader and the Warlord over. "Oh, and the Proclamation tapped into your communications. We're aware of the mission. Once the Master is in your clutches, please exit as quickly as you can. The Proclamation is, again, _not_ an exchange point for your prisoners. Gallifrey has Shada for that."

With that, the Architect turned and strode out of the room, her escort of Judoon soldiers following close behind, Crusader and Warlord taking up the rear, pushing the cuffed Desipassan and Mystique along. Eventually, they had disappeared into a long, bright white corridor, and the hangar doors slid shut.

"Oh, yes. We're _so very sorry_ to pick up the criminal that you couldn't deal with yourselves. Maybe we wouldn't even need Shada if you were more secure than a storage barn," grumbled the Mechanic under her breath. It was just her and Androgar left now … well, them and the inhabitants of the Wanderer's ship. "So, do you feel welcome?" she asked Androgar, taking another look around the large, bare hangar. Androgar snorted, looking the Wanderer's ship up and down once again.

The Lord Cardinal cleared his throat, banging loudly on the ship's doors. No answer. Looking back over his shoulder at the Mechanic, the two exchanged an irritated glance.

"Wanderer!" called the Mechanic, "We have a transaction to make."

The doors of the ship slid open, the Mistress' duplicate collapsing onto the floor of the hangar, her imprisoner resting a foot on her back as she struggled. The Time Lady on the ground looked up at Androgar and the Mechanic with palpable disdain. There was a deep menace in her eyes - it was all the Mechanic could do not to shudder.

"So, what's the plan, dear?" she asked the Lord Cardinal, running a serpent-like tongue over her lips. "Rescuing dear old Gallifrey from the Void? Pulling our homeworld out of hell? I've got news for you, love… I have _no idea_ how to get our world back. Neither does the Doctor, I'd wager, so—"

"Quiet," ordered Androgar. "Are we sure this is the Master?"

Wanderer scoffed, "It's him … er … her, all right. More manic than I've heard, however. I suppose the War affected everybody somehow."

Androgar nodded, looking the Wanderer up and down. "Indeed. Would you mind letting the prisoner stand up? Is that a feasible request?"

Sensing the edge in Androgar's voice, the other Time Lord hurriedly removed his foot from the Mistress' back, allowing her to stand up. The Time Lady's hands were still cuffed securely behind her back as he pushed her towards Androgar and Mechanic, the latter placing a hand securely on the Master's shoulder.

"And my reward?" asked the Wanderer.

Androgar snorted, pulling a small, pen-sized device from the folds of his High Gallifreyan garb. "This is a mind probe, Wanderer. I'm sure you're aware of what it does."

"Go ahead," said Mechanic, "Scream 'not the mind probe!' or something. I've heard it's a very relaxing exclamation."

"Your reward," continued Androgar. "Is not to have this used on you in the next three minutes."

Wanderer's eyes flashed. "I brought you the Master!" he shouted, "Do I not even regain my position on Gallifrey for this?" Androgar shook his head and laughed at the man, "Were you really that hopeful? No, I'm afraid this is either the end of the line for you, or you'll be spending the rest of your existence as a renegade, Wanderer…

The other Time Lord glowered at the Lord Cardinal. "I'll go to the Shadow Architect. She has supreme authority, does she not?"

"Not anymore," Androgar murmured. "But do as you like. As long as I never sense your presence again, _deserter_." Androgar spat the last word in disgust, glaring at the Wanderer. Slowly, fuelled with self-righteous anger, the Wanderer turned and strode out of the hangar, the doors sliding open to allow him exit. Androgar smirked as he watched the man go.

" _Selfish imbecile_."

"Sounds enough like a Time Lord to me," said the Mechanic drily, tightening her grip on the Mistress' shoulder.

 **-000-**

The Shadow Proclamation's detainment cells were … luxurious, to say the least. Less of a jail, more of a very small four-star hotel room. Desipassan looked through the plasma-based bars of his cell, giving the Crusader a wink as he lounged on a blood-red couch. Mystique was too busy stretching her neck and rotating her wrists, free from the confines of handcuffs and Androgar's timeship.

Desi called out to Mystique, "You alright there, Educator?"

"Could be worse!" she called back, smirking slightly. While Desi and herself were nowhere near conventional 'allies', their guards were practically in the same boat as them now. How karmic.

"Will we be charged if the prisoners are found to have been assaulted?" the Crusader asked. "Just … in case."

The Warlord gave her a sympathetic smile. As of now, their futures on Gallifrey practically hung in the balance. "To be on the safe side, let's not beat them within an inch of their lives, pet. Just too much of a risk, eh?"

The Time Lady nodded, sighing deeply as he put a strong hand on her shoulder. "We'll be alright," the Warlord murmured, kindly. "We'll be all right." Crusader frowned.

"What if…" she began.

"What if…?" asked the Warlord.

"What if we found the Doctor? And then gave him to the High Council, perhaps they would—"

A voice drifted from seemingly nowhere, out of the dark, a male voice - light and breezy but with a slight edge of authority. It sent chills down the Crusader's spine, and she felt the Warlord's hand tighten on her shoulder. "My, my, capturing the _Doctor_? Such belief in yourself, Crusader, I am truly impressed. Stop fretting, I haven't come here to kill you. I'm just … _collecting the prisoners_ … hm?"

The Warlord exchanged a wary glance with the Crusader.

"Who are you?" called the Time Lady in the general direction of the voice. A figure stepped into view – a figure none of them recognised. Not yet, at any rate. He gave them a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Identification Omega Seven Theta Forty-Five. If you must, call me Commander Omega. I'm here for the prisoners."

The Crusader nodded, quietly.

 **-000-**

As the Shadow Architect and her escort of Judoon strolled briskly down the fluorescent-white corridors of the Proclamation, there was a slight shimmer in a darkened corner of the hallway. Once the coast was well and truly clear, the large, bald man stepped out of the shadows, observing his surroundings. The man's name was Red.

"Professor Summerfield?" he called out into the empty corridor. No answer. Not even a hint of movement. Improperly calibrated vortexal transport was bound to have shunted her afield of their intended destination, just as it had done he. Oh, well. She'd turn up eventually.

He started off down the hallway, looking at all the signs above small doorways and large doorways and medium-sized doorways. Would this gathering of Gallifreyans be congregating in a broom closet or an auditorium? Ah … a hangar. Last at the end of the corridor. "…Delta-mu…" he whispered, reading aloud.

"Oh, and what's there?" asked a voice. Red whirled around, hand reaching for his blaster, when he was met by the sight of … a timid-looking middle-aged man in a suit. Red looked him up and down. "Time Lord?"

The man looked taken aback, "Well, yes… yourself?"

"I prefer to say Gallifreyan," Red muttered. "But don't be throwing my lineage around, will you? Bad for business."

"Oh, I'm sure…" the other Time Lord held out his hand for Red to shake. "I'm Professor Rakiovax. Of the Academy. Er, you could just call me the Professor, I suppose."

Red nodded, shaking the Professor's hand firmly. "I go by the name of Red. Unusual, I know."

The Professor smiled slightly at Red, "Oh, I've heard much more unusual names than that. So … again … what's in the hangar?"

"A lot of Time Lords," said Red, quietly. "And possibly … the Master."

"Possibly?"

"Well, I'm not entirely sure," Red grumbled, examining the hangar door for an opening mechanism. "I don't entirely trust my sources. Ah, well…" he grunted, slamming a slightly-obscured button on the lower half of the hangar door. "Only one way to find out."

* * *

 _This fic is somewhat based upon DWRP Forum's "The New Gallifreyan Avengers" thread. Some credit goes to Terrance Sigma, AkibaSilver, The Daleks' Advocate, Lord Garnetto, Wandering Browncoat, Sparrow9612 and Doctor Who Immortals for the creation of some of the characters featured in this story._


End file.
